


Into the Shadow

by Merkwerkee



Category: JourneyQuest
Genre: Zombie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkwerkee/pseuds/Merkwerkee
Summary: Carrow dies. That's not how the story ends.....





	Into the Shadow

The pain was gone. Carrow floated, basking in a warm light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The places in his chest where the arrows had struck - and wasn't that a crowning irony, getting shot by the very orcs he'd gone there to warn Perf about - didn't hurt, though the light showed through him there.

He smiled, basking in the warmth of Viaeris' light, when lightning suddenly surrounded him. Carrow frowned - what could this be? He'd been on the receiving end of a resurrection only twice before, being one of the more cautious questing clerics, and always had Viaeris' light let him go gracefully, surrendering him to the call back to life. Now, the lightning surrounded him like a net, like a cage, and repulsed the light where it touched. He struggled madly, like a fish caught in a net, for the lightning tasted like darkness - but it was no use. The lightning was as inexorable as the tide and drew him down, down into a strangely familiar darkness.

He could hear - people. Perf, Nara, Orcs. "Did it work? Ogh..." That was Nara. "Not as such, no." That wasn't surprising. Perf frequently screwed up, especially during battle when he tried to read out of his book. Carrow routinely patched him up after such escapades, and he was vaguely surprised Nara hadn't noticed after the better part of a year. Then again, Nara ignored Perf as much as she could so perhaps she hadn't actually noticed.

Running feet pattered by the darkness imprisoning him. Nara and Perf, if the robe-flapping was any indicator. Then the orcs, yelling what were probably obscenities. Perf was the translator, he probably knew. Carrow strained to rise, to join them; the orcs were hot on his friends' heels, they would need his help. It was to no avail; he had a better sense of where he was trapped, but he could not move one inch, not one iota.

The darkness was maddeningly familiar. For one thing, when he concentrated, it wasn't entirely dark. There were spots, some brighter than others, of soft, reddish light. It almost looked like the light that passed through the eyelids when the eyes were closed.

Wait...

With a growing terror he explored the darkness around him with a new sense of his surroundings. Hands, feet, other extremities, exactly where he expected them to be. It was his own body that held him prsioner, and if his heart had still been beating it would surely have stopped in his horror at this discovery. Those were his eyes, and the redder areas were where the arrows had struck. He was a spirit, bound inside his own corpse - one of the abominable undead, cursed by all and struck from Viaeris' light.

Carrow sent a prayer to Viaeris with the entirety of his soul, begging for forgiveness. He had not sought this fate, would have remained in Viaeris' light for the rest of time if he not be resurrected. Surely Viaeris would not hold it against him? Surely Viaeris, in his infinite mercy and love, could forgive Carrow that which been done unto him?

The sounds of yelling in the distance reminded him that his friends were in trouble, and that if Perf died now he wouldn't be able to make him undo whatever he'd done. Returning his main consciousness to his head was the first step; next, he had to settle back into the body in its entirety. Feet to feet, hands to hands, and everything in between. It was not a perfect fit but it was good enough; he didn't want to be comfortable inside this slab of flesh.

Now, movement. Neither arm obeyed when he attempted to push himself into an upright position, and his legs twitched but did not otherwise move. Something smaller, then. It took him a few moments to work it out, but finally he concentrated hard enough and his eyes snapped open. There were no worried faces staring down at him, so Nara and Perf were still in trouble enough to have not returned for him.

His arms were proving troublesome, but he managed to get his spine into a mostly upright position and it was much easier to get from there to standing. His arms hung limp and his head lolled on his shoulders, but his legs were working, for a given value thereof, and he headed off towards the noise.

Carrow moved jerkily, and with every step air jolted out of his lungs in a series of moans and groans. His last breath leaving him in fits and starts because he hadn't managed to get his lungs to draw in air yet - the thought was morbidly amusing. He tripped over roots, rocks, rough ground - it occurred to him that if he got his head and neck under control he wouldn't stumble quite so much but that was too much work at this point.

In fact, Carrow was concentrating so hard on keeping moving that the splash of fresh blood on the breeze took him completely by surprise. Instantly hunger opened a yawning void straight through his middle and unfamiliar instincts had his head snapping up and around. there was an orc ahead of him, pointing a crossbow at Perf, who had a sword for some reason, and Nara, whose hands were tied.

His footsteps quickened, and the orc had just enough time to scream as Carrow tore into him with a feral growl.The taste of blood in his mouth, the slide of flesh over his tongue...They cemented something inside him, his soul fitting better, more firmly, into his body. As he crunched bones and sucked the slippery marrow inside, he heard Nara ripping - less literally - into Perf. "You and your flawed, retarded magic! Your turned our cleric into a zombie!"

That, that was wrong. Carrow remembered his lessons on the undead and he certainly wasn't a zombie. That memory, along with a newfound synchronization with his body, allowed him to speak. "No. Not a zombie."

The screaming was a bonus.


End file.
